


Rains in Hell, Ignites in Heaven

by nikkivfx



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vomiting, graphic images
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkivfx/pseuds/nikkivfx
Summary: Angel!Reader x Demon!Beetlejuice
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/You, Beetlejuice/Originial Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

They did not like each other. They were destined not to. An angel and a demon, what kind of pair had a more innate detestation of the other? But they lived underneath the same roof, which practically forced them to play nice. Or at least attempt to.

The Deetz household was never boring. Two ghosts, a living family of three, an angel, and a demon. Sounds like chaos if I have ever heard it.

Most of the family was acquainted already, with a… curious history. The demon, Beetlejuice, met the ghosts, Adam and Barbara Maitland, after they had died in their own house. The living family, the Deetz’s, were terrorized by the demon after moving in, which was an attempt to expel them from the same house. Beetlejuice tried marrying the living daughter in order to become human again. She stabbed him through the chest once they eloped and he was alive, killing him, keeping him a demon once and for all.

Only one was not yet situated. She revealed herself after everything had died down, when they began to function like a normal (for them) family. She was exceedingly reserved at first. When she exposed herself, they did not really know what to think. The truth was that she was an angel that had also lived here at a point in time. She had not shown herself until then because she was scared. Her wings and halo were not that off putting for them, they were all well acquainted with the demon’s tail acting as an extra appendage. Also, after the few months the group had had, it was hard to surprise them anymore.

Quickly, they warmed up to her, already prepared to welcome her into their home. The young girl, Lydia, asked her all sorts of questions. The angel was patient, answering anything she wanted to know. They sat her down on a kitchen chair and gathered around, listening intently as she spoke.

“When did you die?”

“It must have been in the early 1800s. It’s a bit fuzzy, I spent years trying to remember.” She averted her gaze, feigning a bit of laughter, hand going to her throat. Lydia didn’t really pick up on it, but when she looked away her glowing eyes caught deep amber ones. Beetlejuice was standing in the corner, eyeing her. She tried to shake his suspicious stare off and looked back to Lydia.

“This house has been here for that long?”

“No; it wasn’t this house, that one was demolished. This house was built on the same land, and my spirit still lingered here, so I took a home here after it was built.”

“Holy crap, so because you’re an angel, have you met God? Is he real!”

She told them how she watched her own home be demolished, and that she had been keeping in a hidden room connected to the basement. It was built as a panic room, but it was not obvious once you got down there, unless you really looked. It was easy to get by on her own, she had been doing so for two centuries.

They were glad to provide her an actual bedroom, and she easily settled in with them. It was a natural fit. She was so grateful to them; they had filled her first interaction with anyone in centuries, with happiness. There was pleasant chemistry between her and everyone in the house. Lydia was her favorite, that clever girl won her way into her heart so quickly the angel had whiplash.

All of them got along with her, all except for one. Mishaps, _many_ mishaps, begun to happen, circling around Beetlejuice and her. The angel tried to be open, she really did. But he was infuriating most of the time.

The first prank he pulled on her was meant to be harmless. He put a dead roach in her morning tea. Reasoning being: she was dead, how delicate would she be to something like that?

It wasn’t until she was retching over the toilet, was when he got his answer.

“God, ‘m sorry, featherhead. Didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

She was so distraught, she didn’t acknowledge what he said as an insult, “You,” she vomited, he floated behind her, “You didn’t mean to.”

After that, she triple checked food and drink before she consumed it.

Beetlejuice relentlessly called her names; they usually were a dig at the fact that she was an angel. And of course, he seized every opportunity to see her flustered.

Like pushing his front against her back when she was busy at the counter, pretending to need something from the cabinet. In that gruff voice, he would lean down and whisper into her ear, “Sorry, babes.” She knew he called everyone that, but when he said it to her, there was a different meaning behind it. She could feel that much. His voice would get deeper; he would say it just a touch slower. Speaking of _feeling_ things, when he leaned into her, he made sure she felt all he had to offer. When she burned red from it, he chirped his usual line,

“Whats’a matter, cherub? Woke something up, did I?”

All she did was grip the counter a little tighter and breathe in a heavy breath she didn’t need, looking straight ahead.

“Try to hide it if you want, doll.” He went sideways to look at her profile, running a fingertip along her face to feel her velvet skin, “Red cheeks say different.” He used the counter to push away from her, leaving her in the kitchen with her thoughts and weak knees.

She silently cursed her skin. The three other ghosts in the house did not have this problem. Her, being an angel, was bound to appear ‘sweet-looking’. Meaning she wears her feelings on her face, blush always being the most prominent. There was no hiding it.

She liked to have plants scattered around, she and Barbara had that in common. Most were in her room, sitting on the windowsill. She took excellent care of them. Aloe, Fittonia, Bonsai, you name it, and she likely had a variation or knew what you were mentioning.

One day, Beetlejuice was insanely bored, floating through the house, nothing to do. He found a makeshift slingshot that he and Lydia crafted to fling rocks at the mailman or any other innocent street-goer. He assembled the angel’s smallest plants in a line outside and shot them down one by one. The terracotta pots shattered, soil and roots going everywhere. When the angel had gone outside for her daily fix of air, she had found the mess left on the porch. Her heart sunk a million times over at the realization that the wreckage on the floor belonged to her. Usually, she was soft-spoken, good-natured. But she spewed fire on BJ when she got back into the house.

“How _dare_ you, Beetlejuice!” He flinched at his name, “You know how important those plants are to me!” Important was an understatement. Plants were her only friends while she was alone, for all those years. She nursed all of them with so much care, treating each of them like you would a small animal. The more her tirade continued, the closer she got to him, pointing an accusatory finger into his face. The wings behind her were rigid and shaking. They were similar to his hair; they portrayed her emotions in some way. His hair was streaked the faintest black: fear. She was smaller than him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t cower in her path.

“You have no regard for anything or anyone! Bastard!” Her eyes widened and hand slapped over her mouth before he had even processed what she called him. Bewilderment flashed in her eyes, and she fled upstairs.

And she would never tell him, but when she got back into her room, she let herself grieve. Not only for her plants, but for the pitiful look on his face when she scolded him. She felt terrible for making him feel bad, but he started it! This was the breaking point; he had gone too far. Really, it wasn’t even about the plants. It was how he blatantly disrespected her time after time, not seeming to care except for when he got caught.

Months had passed, and they went on like this. Directly after his stunt, he eased off of her a little, giving her space. But time passed, and he went back to his normal tormenting. Scaring her, calling her names, getting her hot and bothered. The last option was always his favorite.

Sitting at the table for dinner one night, Delia tried to ask, “Beetlejuice, can you go get-”

“Why not ask Virgin Mary to do it?”

“For the last time, I’m not the Virgin Mary!”

“Still a virgin though, aren’t ya, twinkle-toes? All you need is a good, hard-”

“Enough!” She yelled, feeling her heartbeat in her face.

If they weren’t heard bickering at least once throughout the day, everyone else in the house was concerned.

There was a day at breakfast where it had been particularly quiet. Everyone had eaten one by one, no one really congregating. It was one of those days.

The angel and Beetlejuice sat at the table, silent. A small portion of food was in front of her, she had not woken up very hungry. She occupied herself with the newspaper, Adam made sure to leave it on the table for her every morning.

Beetlejuice was crawling in his skin. He wanted to ask her for the truth. He needed to ask. He knew something was up with her since she came here. What was he so afraid of? That she would hate him more? _Only you would be intimidated by an angel, Lawrence._  
He called her name.

“Hmm?” she hummed, not looking up.

“How did you die?”

She froze. The only thing that moved was her glowing eyes, locking with his in a way they never had before. Beetlejuice had never felt so small from a stare since he was a child and lived with his mother. It was difficult to read her, but there was an underlying panic written across her face.

“Why?”

That was the only thing she asked, not uttering it a decibel over a whisper. Underneath furrowed brows, her eyes frantically searched his face for a response.

“I just- I know nothing about you, besides your name and when you, maybe, died. We live together. Just… tell me _something_.”

_Was this a trick?_ There was a long pause, he could tell she was thinking. The angel toyed with her hands. She always had the same baby pink polish on her nails, Beetlejuice noticed. Each finger fiddled with another; her eyes secure on them.

Overall, she was somber.

“I was 19 when I died,” she whispered, “He killed me.”

He watched as her wings fell with the declaration. He waited for more information, but she did not speak. She continued to look into her palms.

“Who did?”

“We were engaged to be married. Everything was… great. He was a nice man, gentle. I was smitten. One night we were left alone a-and… he snapped. He was angry so suddenly; all I had done was drop some silverware. My, I could still hear him screaming at me,” It looked as though she shivered, “He, um… he slit my throat. No one ever caught him, he somehow made it seem like an accident. From the other side, I watched as he went on to marry another woman. They… They seemed to be fine together.”

“Doesn’t murder make for an angry spirit?” he asked, trying to not sound indelicate, “Why aren’t you like a… I don’t know, a wretched soul? How are you an angel?”

“I wasn’t always. I was a malevolent spirit for some time, unable to leave my life in the past, unintentionally taunting my loved ones and all who knew me. I couldn’t make sense of why _I_ had to die. When I finally realized it was deep-rooted grief, not anger, I was able to forgive. Then I sprouted my wings and inherited my corona.”

He nodded, processing everything she was saying.

“So… you lied to Lydia. You remember when you died, how you died. You remember your life.”

“I could never forget.” Her voice broke, and he watched as the tears built up in her eyes. She had spent all this time, mourning what could have been. His heart broke, knowing the feeling. He examined her.

Even when crying, she was nothing short of radiant.

“Babes, I could tell you about me if that’ll make you-”

“Please excuse me.” She hurried from the table and up the stairs, locking herself in her room. She wasn’t seen for the rest of the day.

That night, BJ could not rest. All he could do was think about the tears running down her sweet face, and what they meant. He paced an inch above the floor outside of her door, unsure if he should talk to her about their conversation at breakfast.

Stirring, she called him in. He halted once he heard her voice, staring at her door dumbfoundedly. Before she called him again, he turned the knob and peeked his green-haired head in.

“How did you know I was there?”

“I could sense you, Beetlejuice.”

He went quiet at that, like he was thinking.

“Come in. What’s wrong?”

At her offer he moved his feet, closing the door gently behind him. He looked into her glowing eyes and took a deep breath.

“I… I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you. At first, everything was meant to be plain jokes, you know, like what I pull with everyone else. But I got angry with you the longer you stayed, I couldn’t figure you out. So, jokes turned into somethin’ spiteful. I’m sorry, babes.”

Not even the man who slit her throat had muttered an apology in the remaining days of his life. He died in his sleep one night, years after he killed her. She stared at the demon, inquisitive look on her face.

“Do you remember your life?”

He was slightly taken back at her change of subject.

“I, uh, not much of it. I remember my mom the most, she made my life hell and continued to even after we both crossed over. I don’t think I had siblings. And I don’t remember a father. I’m pretty sure I died in the late 1300s. It’s hard to remember, it was so long ago.”

“Were you really named Beetlejuice?” A small smirk played on her lips.

His mouth quirked with hers, “No. My real name is Lawrence.”

Meaningfully, she said, “It’s nice to meet you. The real you.”

He blinked a few times, feeling too vulnerable. Naturally, he deflected.

“If you died here, that means you’re not buried too far. Am I right?”

“Yes?” She sounded unsure.

“What do you mean? You don’t _know_?”

“I was always too scared to check. I don’t know, I felt like if I saw my grave, I would be angry all over again. Truthfully, I kind of forgot about it.”

“Do you know where the nearest cemetery is?”

She nodded.

He paused, then asked, “Do you want to go together?”

“I…” She looked down and thought for some moments, then got to her feet, “Yeah, I guess. Why not? Let’s go.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

“We don’t have to, I just figured you might like some company.”

“I want to go.”

She looked serious. He nodded once.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

On their way out, she grabbed a white, plush-looking poncho.

“You really need that?” He asked, sounding the slightest bit critical, “You’re dead, you know. Numb to temperature.”

“Keeps extra chill out. And I think it looks pretty. Barbara knitted it for me.”

He ate his words the second she slipped it over her head. It was _adorable_. It hung in points on her front and back. It was so bright and complemented her long white dress, Barbara was good at stuff like that. She caught him staring, but did not mention it, feeling her cheeks get hot. Quickly, she led the way out of the house. They left through the back, into the open land behind the house.

It was swamp-like, the walk to the graveyard. Fog covered the ground, the grass beneath them was dewy. Sure, she could have transported them there, but she enjoyed nature too much. Their eyes worked better in the dark, hers especially. So, she did not miss the small movement in the grass as they approached the cemetery.

“Hello, little one.” She squatted and cupped her hands around the teeniest frog, bringing it up to her chest. Beetlejuice watched as she pet it oh-so-gently. He had heard her whistle to the birds when she was out on the porch, saw her click to the squirrels. But it was different to see her hold an animal. For the first time, he completely understood why she was deemed an angel. Her soul was one of the purest he had ever met.

He waited patiently, happy to watch her show the amphibian love. She placed it back on the floor and watched it hop off. When she stood back up, she had a muted smile on her face, her corona glowing brightly. Then her daze broke and she seemed to remember someone else was with her. She stumbled on her words,

“Sorry, I can’t resist- I love ani-”

“No need to apologize, sweetness. That was fuckin’ cute.”

“Beetlejuice!” She gasped at his crude language.

He only chuckled, and they continued to walk on.

“What if you’re not buried there?” He posed.

“Then I’m not buried there. I feel like I am, though. Where else would I be put?”

“Dunno. I just, I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

She looked at him from the side. Softly, she whispered, “Thanks.”

They passed through the iron gates onto the unkempt path between the tombs. Bodies must have stopped being buried in the last century, though there weren’t many graves. They weren’t in perfect lines, either, mostly scattered in random spots.

“Do you want to split up?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t have some crazy name, right? It’ll say the same name you call yoursel-”

“Yes, you prying demon. Start looking.”

They walked separate directions, though they weren’t terribly far from each other. Her eyes darted from grave to grave, looking for her own name. Beetlejuice didn’t know her last name, but she figured she’d tell him once they found her tomb, or one that sounded similar.

Searching further, she saw no names she recognized. Some gravestones were badly battered, names weathered from the elements. But she could tell none bore her name. She was reaching the end of the rows, hopefulness lessening with each step she took. Maybe they were in the wrong place. Maybe she wasn’t buried here.

But then one rounded stone looked an awful lot like it was hers. She stopped in her tracks, reading it once, twice, three times over. She was here. Standing atop her early grave.

In her heart, she felt like it was only right that she was the one to find it first.

From the distance, Beetlejuice was about to call her to tell her that he came up empty. But he saw her still frame and drooping wings, knowing what it must have meant. He went to her and read the headstone. It was her name, her lifeline. He said nothing. She sniffled very, very feebly.

“I forgive you.” She whispered.

At first, she did not know if he heard her. But a cool hand wrapped around her own and gave a thoughtful _squeeze_.

On the way home, they did not speak. But their hands did not part.


	2. Chapter 2

As weeks passed, Beetlejuice and the angel got closer and closer. He would make late-night visits to her room, and vice versa. They sat next to each other at every meal, even if they weren’t saying anything. The others noticed their friendlier atmosphere but didn’t want to jinx anything by bringing it up. To her surprise, BJ had turned down his lewd comments. Secretly, he did not want to mess up anything going on between them. And secretly, she thought he was doing a great job.

Their first kiss came on a cool night when they were sitting together on the porch. It was only a peck, but the angel felt herself get hot almost immediately.

“Forgive me, I haven’t been kissed... Ever.”

“That’s okay, doll! I’m happy to show ya,” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her chuckle, “Hmm? Whaddaya say?”

She didn’t answer verbally. She only pulled him by his lapels and kissed him again.

With strong hands laid on her hips, they were transported to her bedroom. Onto her bed, specifically. It wasn’t clear which one had brought them there, neither of them really cared. She was laying straight, his body next to hers, but his face was tilted above her own. His feverish kiss was nearly pinning her into the mattress.

They experimented, breath and heartbeats were nonexistent. Perhaps they would have been in sync. She bumped her nose with his a few times, eventually getting the hang of it. Both their lips were cold, but he was colder. To them, it was not that stark of a contrast. Tongues touched, prodded, swirled. He taught her how he liked it, she learned in record time.

He moved his face into her neck, laying kisses and licks anywhere he could reach. Involuntarily, her mouth let out a few gasps. A new feeling generated in her lower stomach. It felt like it was throbbing, but in a good way. Throbbing, but with desire. She didn’t know that yet.

While nuzzled snugly into her neck, he called out, “Is this alright?”

She squeaked at the sensation of scruff scratching her skin, “Yes!”

They went on this way for the next couple of days. Either in his or her room (usually hers, he had a habit of not keeping things the cleanliest), lying in bed together. Beetlejuice kept it G-rated, not touching her anywhere that may have been considered inappropriate. But she threw him a curveball that came out of left field when she broke their kiss and abruptly said,

“I want to have sex with you.”

He blinked.

“Did you hear me? I said I-”

“No, you don’t.”

“What? I do. Do you not want-”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Yes, it does,” With brows furrowed, she continued, “Beetlejuice, I want to have sex with you. If-”

“But-”

She held a finger up and gave him a look that said _please, don’t interrupt._ He bit back whatever rebuttal he had planned.

“If you do not want to have sex with me, that’s okay. I’m only offering because I trust you, and I know I want to share this with you.”

He snorted, but there was no humor in the sound. He started to rant, she let him talk, “Babes, of course I want to! How could I not? But are you sure that’s what _you_ want? You really think you want _me_? Are you sure you’re not just horny, and, I don’t know, lowering your standards? You really have that much confidence in me?”

He felt his chest swell at the thought of her trusting him that much. After all he had done, all he had put her through, she still let him kiss her. Caress her. And now, she was saying that she wanted to give herself to him. In the core of her being, she truly was an angel.

“Yes, Lawrence. I trust you. And I want _you_.”

Hearing his real name and her confession in the same breath, he could have came apart on sight.

Something animalistic came from his throat, and he attacked her lips. He swiftly threw a leg over her, careful not to straddle her in a way that was daunting. His thighs didn’t crush her body, he spread them out as much as he could. Strong arms wrapped around her back, and he pulled her body up to his own a bit.

She was made in heaven, wrapped up and given to him like a little divine package.

He was so scared to taint her.

“Sweet thing, are you sure you want this?” There was an edge in his voice and yellow streaks in his hair that established he was worried. If she was getting sick of his persistence, she didn’t show it,

“The last thing I want to do is beg, demon. But, please… fuck me.”

Her last words were said lower than the beginning of her sentence. The look in her eyes said _I am completely serious._ Wind was knocked out of him by hearing her curse, yet arousal from it was evident on his head. Flares of bright and soft pink were scattered, but there was still some yellow at the roots.

Out of nowhere, there were sharp canines pressed against the pulse in her neck. Beetlejuice threw his voice,

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll give you _whatever_ you want.”

Feeling victorious and excited, she smiled brilliantly, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him close. His fingers traced over her thighs, almost imperceptibly hiking her long dress up. The more skin that he felt under his fingertips, the harder his mouth clamped down on the junction of her neck. She cried out at the pain of his teeth intermingled with the first feelings of someone touching her bare skin.

Smaller fingers gripped at his jacket, nonverbally telling him to take it off. He paused his actions, pulling away from her and doing as she asked, throwing it onto the floor. Before his mouth contacted some new part of her skin, she placed her hands on his broad chest. They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments, then hers began to trail down. Over his mouth, his scruff, some soft moss patches, down his neck. They stopped then they reached the lip of his collar. The hands resting on his chest went into motion, unbuttoning his dress shirt. He studied her face with a smirk while she worked intently, feeling each pop of a button free more and more of his chest. Finished with her handiwork, she slipped her hands onto his shoulders and pushed the shirt off his arms. He again tossed his clothing onto the floor.

He was hairy. To some extent, it seemed all the hair on his body was ruled by the same law of color changing. The tips of his chest and arm hair were pink, but the root was dark. _Interesting._

She enjoyed that he was hefty. She liked the weight of him on top of her, it made her feel secure. His body was sculpted in a way where it just _looked good_ on him.

“Like whatcha see? I think so, you can hardly peel your eyes off ’a me.”

At his declaration, she instantly took her bottom lip into her mouth, blushing and looking to the side.

“Aw, I’m sorry darlin’. Didn’t mean to embarrass ya,” He took her chin in his fingers and turned her head back to him, “I like it when you look.”

God, his voice was so low. She never wanted him to stop talking. And lucky for her, he almost never did. Was she discovering her first kink? What was it about his rasping voice she liked so much?

They resumed disrobing each other, being nothing but generous with kisses. While he brought up her dress a bit more, she ventured into his neck, making him stop momentarily, eyes flickering closed. She laid kisses on the skin, trying to mimic what he had done to her.

“Feels like a feather. Good job, my girl.”

His light praise ignited something in her. She took the bottom of her dress and shifted up, pulling it over her head, laying it carefully beside them. All she had on was her nightdress for sleeping, no underwear. He didn’t expect it, but was pleased anyway. Was he purring?

“Eager?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t make you wait that much longer- _JesusChristyouaresobeautiful_.”

His eyes tried looking everywhere at once, filing away every inch of her skin in his mind. The wings on her back encased her in an exquisite frame of white. Now that she was bare, it was easier to see the white scar that sat across her throat, beginning at her jugular and ending after her esophagus. Though he was hesitant to stain her perfect body, he had to leave love bites. The primal urge in him would not allow him to go on unless he did so. She laid back, reveling in his passionate treatment.

“My gorgeous little angel. You must ‘a been sent here just for me.”

With that, he only snapped, and his trousers and pants were gone. They were naked, pressed together in the most intimate way possible without actually having sex. She whimpered, then her voice piped up,

“Before you ask again, I am sure I want this. Is there anything I could do for you?”

“Besides sit there and look pretty? Nothing, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Her cheeks went hot at his compliments. She’d make sure to repay him for all the tender treatment he was giving her at a separate time. After he taught her everything she needed to know.

He pulled his body off hers and started a trail with his chilled hand down her front. Teasing her nipples a bit, using more of his nail when he got to her hips. She closed her eyes and let herself feel everything he was doing. And boy, did everything he did feel splendid.

Beetlejuice used his two center fingers first, dragging them lightly on the lips of her pussy. _Oh, well that’s not bad at all._ They stopped when they reached the top, over her clit, pressing into her flesh, then rubbing in circles. Considering she had not really touched herself this way, her skin quickly started to heat, and she started slickening a bit. He broke away only to catch some of it onto his fingers, using it to make his actions smoother. _That’s good, I like that._ She let him know that she liked it by clutching the arm in motion and making throaty sounds of approval. The longer he continued, the wetter she became. Deciding he was done with that; he moved the same fingertip to her entrance and outlined the ring of it for a few cycles. He slowly pressed his middle finger into her at a steady pace, not stopping until it was sheathed inside of her. She tensed at first, then gradually went lax. _Okay, a little uncomfortable. Bearable._ It was still for a few moments; he was wonderful at making sure she was accustomed to a feeling before he continued.

The finger inside her felt the release of tension, then curled upwards once.

“Oh, Mother of-”

It was a quick jolt of pleasure, something she had not felt before. It was strong. It was excellent, but she knew too much of it could be crushingly powerful.

“Good?” He rasped; voice heavy. _He was so turned on._ Not only from watching, but knowing he was the one doing this to her. For the first time, no less. He couldn’t even get more than one word out to check if she was okay, the anticipation of being inside her was ruining him. A swishing sound in the air told her his tail was flicking behind him like crazy.

“Yes!”

Actions changed between curling and rotating. When he was sure she might have had enough of the curling; he would encircle the finger within her. There were drips of wetness running down her bottom. She was releasing a whole slew of sounds. He paused and began pressing in his ring finger as well. Again, she tensed, but not as much as the first time. He let her get her bearings, then the two fingers started very slightly scissoring inside of her in an attempt to get her used to a stretch. _Not the best feeling. I’ll get used to it._

He pulled both fingers out and immediately put them in his mouth. Her eyes opened at the loss and the sound of smacking from his lips. He wasn’t trying to make a show of it, but she found it extremely erotic anyway.

“Think you’re ready for me?”

Paired with a nod, she let out a jovial, “Mhm.”

She looked down at his cock for the first time. The length was quite substantial, so was his girth. There was an upward curve to it. She would be lying if she said the sight of it didn’t turn her on. He was perfect.

Fingers grabbed her chin again, making her lock eyes with him. That hand then grabbed the base of his dick to hold it steady, the other held himself up. To him, she was small and searing hot underneath him. In reality, she was only a few degrees hotter than he was. He let out a low grumble from his chest.

When he entered her, it knocked the breath out of her lungs. He went in slow and steady just like he did with his fingers, not ceasing until his hips were snapped against her. It was painful, but a glorious type of pain. Heaven. She would know, after all. He enraptured her in a bruising kiss that felt like life was breathed back into her. He watched as her expression became pinched. _Okay, that’s a lot more than his fingers._

The friction from his entrance made her walls feel like they were on fire. Maybe she wasn’t wet enough, but she couldn’t really care. The stretch was intrusive, but she felt a delightful fullness in her belly that was unmatched to anything she had ever felt before. Again, she felt that burn in her lower stomach, and this time she _knew_ that it was her need for him. His hipbones were driving into the soft flesh of her inner thighs. He was pressed so deep within her, she felt like she was dizzy.

“You’re so tight, God, the tightest I ever felt, you doing okay?”

“Yes, I w-want you to move.”

He pulled himself out almost completely, then pumped back in at the same pace. It was slow. Every time he delved back into her; he went deep. He must have repeated this ten times or so. She guessed she really liked the feeling of him being so deep inside her because _Christ, that felt so good-_

He felt the telltale little tremble around his cock, followed by an incomparable warmth dripping down his shaft. The halo over her head glowed a touch brighter, the feathers of her wings were vibrating. He smirked.

“Sweetness, did you just cum?”

He questioned, already knowing the answer. She looked up at him doe-eyed, an expression painted on her face that he’s never seen before. It was intense pleasure. She continued to look at him through pretty lashes, and nodded timidly, almost like she had expected him to be angry.

“I-I think I did.”

“How’d you cum from just that?”

“I-I’m pretty sure angel pleasure is different. If they feel something o-ooooverwhelming, they’re likely to orgasm q-quicker.”

His smirk turned into a wicked, toothy grin, “Oh, baby, I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

He fucked her in earnest, pulling sounds and touches of every kind from her. Neither of them really counted, but he made her cum a handful of times. Each was powerful, making her pussy contract around his cock tightly. They learned her legs had a habit of squeezing around him while she was cumming, so his tail wrapped around one of her thighs to keep them spread. When she went snug around him, he went deeper, as deep as he could. When she made her noises, those delicious noises, he sped up. They held each other close, riding out everything as it came.

Approaching his limit, his movements started to stutter.

“Ungh, babygirl, I’m gonna cum!”

“O-kay!”

He came inside her, and she shivered at the way it felt. She could feel his dick twitching, filling her up. If she was more experienced, she would have tightened herself around him every time he shot inside her. She’d have to remember that for next time. He pulled out and buried his face into her clammy neck. The cum dripped out of her pussy and down into the crease of her ass. She was way too tired to care about the mess it was definitely making. They were both absolutely spent, and for two dead people, panting an awful lot.

By the end of it, she was convinced that sex was one of the greatest gifts ever created. She understood why people loved it as much as they did and intended to lose her virginity again, night after night. The cherry on top was sharing it with the right person, and she had no doubt in her mind that she had done just that.

Finding it in them to shower afterward, it was perfectly relaxing. Beetlejuice was willing to bathe to be close to her, but he also had to hold her up most of the time. If she was alive, there may have been blood. There wasn’t any. They lathered soap onto each other, him rubbing as delicate as he could. She tried to scrub the lichen off him, with no such luck. Good thing it was cute. Her When she looked in the mirror, her neck and chest were littered with marks. BJ tried to apologize, but she batted him away. She loved them. Her legs felt weak, and her vagina was sore. But ultimately, she was sated. Oh, was she ever.

They fell into bed, content to have each other, drifting into a peaceful sleep.

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! <33


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone on Tumblr requested a part three! i only thought id write two chapters but i was mistaken. so here is that. I can be found on Tumblr at nikkivfx as well :)

“Oooooh my-!”

They were in a rather compromising position. The demon and his angel, that is. She was sat with her ass hanging off the edge of the bed, held upright by a large hand on her throat, in tandem with the demon’s tail around her middle that was reinforced by his other arm. He stood behind her, hair a blazing pink, face right by her ear, hot breaths blowing onto the side of her face. The puffs were in time with every thrust of his cock into her. Slaps of skin were echoing through the room, underneath the sounds that the two were both making. Grunts from him, the occasional squeal from her.

He spotted her feathers ruffling from the corner of his eye, then looked down at where his hips were connecting with her ass. Smirking triumphantly, he whispered to her,

“What’sa matter darlin’? Cummin’ so soon?”

He laid open-mouthed kisses onto her neck, feeling the rest of her start to tremble in his hands. Again, he spoke to her,

“I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”

She started panicking. Just a bit. She knew when she came, her whole body would shake. Despite being more comfortable with him than she had been with anyone else, she had a maybe, not-so-small secret. She had grown to be embarrassed when she came. She knew she must have looked weird, or something. Who could look sexy like that? But god, just his voice and a few choice words whispered in her ear was sending her over the edge. How was he so… rousing?

“Beej! Beetlejuice, please slow down.”

“Not a chance babes. You haven’t let me- gah- make you cum in _days_ , shit, why?” 

She didn’t answer. She was too focused on not cumming around him. Her silence alarmed him and he halted his actions at once. She would have whined if he didn’t twist her around so aggressively. 

Her back hit the bed, and he loomed over her, arms on either side of her head, imprisoning her. She looked up at him bashfully, then averted her eyes, not being able to bear his golden eyes boring into her. He harshly grabbed her face and forcibly brought her eyes back to his. Surprise flashed across her features, and he softened his grip, but only slightly.

“There’s nowhere to look but me, angel,” His voice was stern, warning her, “What’s the matter?”

_Fuck. No way around it now._

“I-I, gosh, okay so, I, um,” 

His eyes darted from each of hers while she stammered, trying to make sense of her gibberish. It made her feel listened to and therefore, more comfortable. She took a deep breath.

“When I cum, I start to shake.” She started to explain, looking up at him expectantly, hoping he would riddle out the rest, so she need not say more. The hand clutching her face let go and started demonstrating suggestively when he said, 

“ _Oh-ho-ho_ , you sure do, doll. Feels like _fucking heaven_ wrapped around my-”

“I look ugly when I cum!” She blurted.

Her statement took him aback momentarily, but he quickly recovered. A grin was tucked into the corner of his mouth.

“Please don’t laugh! I get embarrassed because I probably look so ugly when it happens, and its not like I can control it-!”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

Her eyes met his again, she was unaware they had wandered from his in the first place, “You’re not?”

“No.”

She was silent, unknowing of what to say next.

“Baby, I don’t care that you shake. You look beautiful doing _anything_. Don’t look at me like that, I mean it. You’re an angel, ‘course you’ll look beautiful always. You never have to be embarrassed with me. And if anything, it’s fucking _sexy_.”

His face was so sincere. She was at a loss for words. _Ugly, disgusting, he probably thinks you’re so gross-_ All her worries countered by a single statement. _Make him slow down, get him to cum before you do, tighten your pussy, ask him to pull out, put him in your mouth- Then when he asks about making you cum after, about returning the favor, just say you’re tired_. This went on for days. But she was in her head about nothing. She had no reason not to believe him, he never lied to her before. She was thinking so hard, she had not realized he had nuzzled into her neck and started kissing her skin.

“Are you sure?”

“’Course I’m sure. Feeling your body reacting to mine, watching you shake underneath me, I could die all over again,” he was muffled, placing kisses on her between his words, “Mm, it feels perfect to fuck you, sweetness. Like you were made for me.”

A whimper sounded from her, and he nipped at the column of her throat, trailing up to her mouth. He captured her lips in his, tasting her honeyed cry. She arched her back up off the bed, pressing herself into him. This was her way of letting him know she was ready to be fucked again.

“Happy to oblige.”

That raspy voice. She was dripping for him once again.

He took his cock into his hand and jerked it lazily, he had not really lost his erection. The tip of it was dragged through her wetness, slickening himself up but also making sure she was prepared enough to take him again.

In a swift motion he was sheathed inside of her. The clench around his cock got better and better every time he entered her. When she took him so well, he couldn’t help but be reminded why he loved fucking her so much.

The moan that escaped her was immodest, reedy, and all too familiar leaving her lips.

“I want you to fucking talk to me! Do-on’t leave me in the dark when you, ngh, feel like this.” he tried to bark this out like a demand, it was meant to patronize her a bit, but it came out more struggled.

He wants her to talk to him? Fine, she won’t be a shy little angel for a moment.

“Take me, like how you were taking me before.”

He slowed, not expecting her to talk, but he responded, nonetheless.

“H-How? Show me.”

A surge of confidence coursed through her, and she pushed him out of her and got to her knees. Turned away from him, she showed her backside to him, arching her ass out as much as possible. 

“Ya like it from behind, huh? I can work with that.”

His tail immediately circled around her middle and pulled her against him. The force made her let out a huff. Then, a strong hand pushed her down onto the bed, bending her over and making her present her ass to him. His thumb ghosted over her slit, going down until he reached her button. He pushed down on it and rubbed in circles, mesmerized by the slick on her lips that glinted in the light.

She sensed his frequency change. It was wild one second, then it felt calmer. Instead of commenting on it, she waited to see what he was going to do next. 

With a finger, he swiped down the line of her back, between the bases of her wings. She shivered before she could control it. His fingers hovered over the delicate feathers, not trying to overwhelm her. He brought his face down and kissed the small of her back, then laced his fingers into her wings gently. The duality of him was unmatched. He could be soft enough to break your heart and rough enough to break your body. And he could switch it in seconds. She brought her face into the sheets and moaned.

He was having none of it, tightening his fists and tugging on her wings at once. 

“Let me hear you.” He growled.

She laid on the side of her face again and said,

“Fuck me again, please.”

She knew exactly how to get him going. Begging for him inside of her, throwing a curse from her innocent mouth in for good measure. Riles him up right away.   
He fucked into her again, hands holding her by the crook of her hips. Every time he entered her, she let out a moan of what sounded like relief. Hooking a hand around her, he pulled her up to his front and pressed onto her clit again.

It didn’t take long to bring her to release. Forcing yourself to not cum for a period could do that to you. Plus, those damn angel genes that made her oversensitive could be a blessing and a curse.

He knew her body well by now. Her thighs were trembling, as well as her wings. He got close to her ear, like he knew she liked, catching a glimpse of the pretty blush painted across her cheeks.

“Cum, my love.” 

The husky whisper in her ear combined with _that name,_ she would have came a million times if she could.

She let herself release. It warmed her whole body and made her pussy tingle. It made her feel cozy. Soon after, he pulled out of her and grabbed her by a hip, spinning her around on the bed again. He jerked himself off with furrowed brows and came over her belly, whimpering moans escaping him as he did so. She thought he looked divine. Always handsome as ever when he came.

He looked down at her with hooded eyes, then leaned between her legs to give her a wet kiss.

“Be right back.” He murmured.

Entering back into the room with a washcloth, he was looking at his feet.

“My love?”

Her voice made him pull his head up slightly. He did a double take in her direction, realizing that his cover was blown. His hand shot up to the back of his neck, yellow sprouting through his fading pink hair. Worry.

“I, uh- I didn’t think you’d notice too much.”

It was her turn to grin at him while he stuttered.

“I don’t mind. Did you mean it?”

He blinked; eyes wide.

“I- Yes. I meant it.” He whispered it just loud enough for her to hear.

The grin turned into a bright smile.

“I love you too, Beetlejuice.”

The joy that filled his dead heart was unlike much he had felt in the past. Maybe they were supposed to be enemies. Maybe they shouldn’t have taken such a liking to each other.

Then why couldn’t they help but feel like they were made for each other?


End file.
